The Tales of the Salem Witch
by Megzilla In Tokyo
Summary: To be a witch was to forever to forever to be banished in Puritan society. It meant you were forever sentenced to hell. Abigail Williams would have been considered a normal girl, if not for the day she saw a tall dark man standing in the forest.
1. And So It Is

Through a forest she ran. Barefoot, through the snow only clad in a nightgown racing through the cold winter night. She dashed behind an old oak to take a breather. Her chest was burning for air, her hands feet and face felt numb. There was no way he could still be following her she had made sure that her tracks were covered and that she was running fast enough. Unfortunately that was the moment she remembered what he was.

"Abigail," He said, in his soft silky voice. She wanted to scream, she wanted to run but she felt literally frozen to the tree. She couldn't move she couldn't think and she had no idea what to do. At this rate she couldn't run far enough away for him not to catch her and she couldn't stay there for much longer.

"Abigail, were are you." His voice again broke the silent cold air. She was terrified, she felt so helpless, and he was going to catch her. Tears flowed down her icy face. She didn't want to go back.

"There you are," The voice mused.

He

Was

Right

Behind

Her. 

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><p>Hope you enjoyed it! I don't own Kuroshitsuji! COMMENT PLEASE! :3<p> 


	2. Where She Stands

**_Hello ALL! Well this is the second chapter of my second fan fiction! I think my problem with the first fan fiction is that I made the chapters too long so I didn't want to work on it as much. These chapters will probably be pretty short but more frequent after the Holidays so don't worry. Also! Any religion, race, sexuality, or gender bashing in this story doesn't reflect how I feel. Those are the characters opinions, and speaking of characters the only ones I own are my OC's ._**

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><p>"Honestly! I take you into my home, feed you, clothe you, teach you magic and you are still so SPITEFULL!" Ranted Gregor. A man in his early thirties, he had messy brown hair that matched the rest of him, he looked like a bum, but who has time to keep appearances when you're dealing with a pubescent young girl at the age of twelve.<p>

"I-I n-n-n-never as-asked f-f-for this!" Abigail stammered the cup of tea in her hand shaking even more as she spoke. Gregor had half the mind to slap her but as pitiful as she looked it would only make him feel bad.

"You're just lucky Jonathan found you or you would have frozen to death, Abigail," He scoffed. "And all of my efforts would have been wasted!" She just glared at him shaking and clattering her teeth. Jonathan sighed and put a quilt around her. He looked to be Gregor's opposite, he was well kept and very pale.

"Now please don't through this one, Abigail."He asked over her, because the first several times he tries to cover it up she chucked the blanket at him and shouted hateful words at the edge of proper English and profanity. This time, Abigail didn't throw it off. "Good girl," he smirked giving her a cat like grin.

"Jona Dear, don't praise her she's in trouble," Gregor growled at the raven haired man.

"She looks ill, Gregor," Informed Jonathan.

"She should be running around in the snow in her skivvies! Did your mother not teach you a thing?" He asked mockingly to no response he raised. "I'm going back to bed, good night Jonathan, Good night trouble." Jonathan nodded and gave the man a bed time kiss Abigail flinched.

"Must you?" the girl screeched her face bright red. During this time displays of affection were unheard of, especially between two men. Abigail wasn't totally disgusted by it though and she cursed herself because of it.

"What I do in my house is none of your business. You're lucky I'm still letting you stay."Gregor said as he exited the room.

"You could try to be more grateful," sighed Jonathan.

"Me? Grateful to him?" Abigail scoffed. "All he's done for me is trying to convince me into committing blasphemy!" Jonathan hovered over her like a dark shadow. Though he didn't exactly like being Gregor's little play toy, he wasn't going to let a brat like this talk about his master like such.

"If we left you as you were you would have surly became a prostitute in Boston, or would have frozen in the woods or killed by Indians…. Like your parents" He informed in a cool tone, but still seeming anger. Abigail clutched her blanket, the memory of her mother having her head crushed in on the pillow right next to her. The blood staining her clothes, her father crying in agony as the barbarians scalped him. She looked up at Jonathan, she knew he was capable of playing dirty, and truly the whole situation was his fault. A witch is a witch from the day they are born till the day they die whether or not they're power is activated. A witches' power can be activated by the energy emitted from another magical or devious creature such as a demon, a fairy , or another witch. The day that Abigail met Jonathan was the day all hell broke loose in Salem.

"Rot in hell, demon scum," Abigail hissed. Jonathan gave her a cat like smile, and then inched in closer to her face.

"As you wish, my dear Abigail," He said and then kissed her on the nose and left the room. Abigail quickly took the corner of the blanket she was wrapped in and scrubbed her nose furiously, cursing so unladylike under her breath.

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><p><em><strong>R&amp;R HAPPY HOLIDAYS!<strong>_


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